


Work This Body

by kara-lesbihonest (mxfivespot)



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tennis, Cat Grant x Lois Lane rivalry, Cat knows Kara is Supergirl, Doubles partners, F/F, Slow Burn, Tennis, country club prep, naturally athletic Kara, tennis skirts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxfivespot/pseuds/kara-lesbihonest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one knows Cat Grant's favorite form of stress relief is hitting the tennis court at the exclusive Laguna Gloria Country Club in the hills just outside National City. After some friendly "encouragement" (read: shit-talking) from Lois Lane, Cat decides she's sick of the Tribune losing the Charity Invitational to the Daily Planet every year. And why should she lose when she can turn the most powerful girl in the world into her doubles partner?</p><p>Competitive Cat. Eager-to-please Kara Danvers. Pre-relationship Supercat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Texting

**Author's Note:**

> It will really help if you listen to "Work This Body" by Walk the Moon while reading this fic. :)
> 
> And Supertrashco: my squad, my trash bin, my loves - fuck you guys.

The last time Cat Grant stood in front of a crowd wearing all white, it ended in divorce.

She vowed it would never happen again, yet here she stood. She tried not to think about that analogy now as she spun her tennis racquet in one hand, crouched low at the net shifting her weight back and forth rhythmically from one side to the other. The white lights of the stadium were glaring overhead as the sunset gave way to dusk in Flushing, New York. She tapped her racquet restlessly against the net, waiting for their opponents to shuffle back into place.

Behind her, she could hear her partner confidently dribbling the ball, alternating between bouncing it on the ground and popping it up with her racquet as she waited.

Where Cat was usually calm and collected, in this she was anxious and fidgety; where Kara would normally be bumbling and nervous, tonight she was almost cocky in her skill. Cat glanced back over her shoulder and Kara caught her eye. The girl tucked an extra tennis ball into her bloomers, smoothed down her skirt, and gave Cat a little nod and a wink.

Cat was uncomfortable as hell with a cocky Kara Danvers, but she had a feeling that was the very thing that would win them this match. Cat shook her head at a now-grinning Kara and turned her attention back across the net.

Finally, that high-maintenance bitch Lois Lane had positioned herself back behind the baseline, her partner at the net diagonal to Cat. Cat eyed Adrienne warily. She had more energy left than Lane, she’d give her that.

“Energy up, up, up! Here we go, Cat,” Kara called the encouragement to her partner from the baseline. Cat crouched low; she heard Kara bounce the ball once, twice, and then there was a thundering pop as Kara launched her deadly serve across the court.

* * *

 

**_2 months prior_ **

One of the most common misconceptions about Cat Grant was that she took out all of her stress and frustration on her employees. It wasn’t true, but she knew her defense on this point didn’t help her overall case for being a decent human. Unbeknownst to most of the world, Cat took out the majority of her anger, sadness, hunger, and turmoil on the instructors and other casual players at the Laguna Gloria Country Club tennis courts.

It was perfect, really. Laguna Gloria was a gilded, trust-fund-addled National City institution with a storied history of providing leisure and sociability to the city’s elite. If Cat screamed at a few ball boys or hit her tennis instructor in the face with a particularly well-placed volley, she could just write an extra big check next month. Those expensive courts bore the brunt of her frustration with old-money grace. If only her staff knew what she would be like if she didn’t manage to fit in three training sessions weekly, they might be more grateful for her restraint.

Cat’s driver pulled up to the club and she stepped out, the warm National City breeze fluttering the pleats of her tennis skirt. She wore a sleeveless athletic top with an expensive thermal track jacket to keep her arms warm before her session. This week had been particularly trying at CatCo, and she couldn’t wait to set foot on the court.

Today’s session was no less therapeutic than usual. At her command, a courtside assistant hauled out the automatic ball machine and let her at it. As the relentless machine oscillated, it flung shot after shot over the net and she dove all over the court chasing them down; she must have hit 300 balls this afternoon alone. By the time Cat was done with her workout, she was dripping with sweat and she felt absolutely wonderful.

She was sitting in a director’s style chair courtside drinking water and gathering up her things to hit the showers when she heard her phone start to play Chopin’s Funeral March. On the next court, a group of snooty elderly women lazily lobbing balls all turned in her direction. Cell phone use was strictly prohibited on the courts at Laguna Gloria. Cat shot them a razor-sharp glare and snatched up the phone—she already knew exactly who it was from. She tapped her messages and gritted her teeth as she read the text from Lois Lane:

_Bitchmonster: Hey kitty kitty, hope you’re keeping it tight. Gonna kick your ass at the CI this year._

Attached underneath the text was a picture of Lois bench pressing what looked like about 100 pounds. God, who even took that picture? Clark? _What a tool_ , Cat thought. She blew out a breath as she flung her towel around her neck and angrily tapped out a reply.

_Cat: Wow, butch looks terrible on you. Just like everything else._

Cat knew she should stop there. Lois loved nothing more than to drag a rise out of her and it was juvenile to allow the effort to succeed. She took another pull from her water bottle and glanced up at the scandalized group of grandmas she’d pissed off a minute ago. She rolled her eyes and stared at the little message below her text indicating Lois had read her insult. She should stop now, ignore the dig about the Charity Invitational, and move on with her day.

Cat Grant didn’t enjoy leaving things to chance. In fact, _not_ leaving things to chance might be considered one of her trademarks, alongside her three Ls and coining the fashion term “business aggressive.” Despite all that, she lifted her phone again and tapped out another message.

_Cat: And re: the CI, I’ve got a new partner this year. Get ready for the type of humiliation you’re used to—intense and public._

She hit send. Before she could change her mind, she opened another thread, this time to Kara.

 _Cat: Remember that huge secret I’m keeping for you?_  
_Kiera: Yes...  
Cat: I need a favor._

* * *

 

“Listen, I know that this is an… _out-of-the-ordinary_ request,” Cat was saying, and Kara was struggling to keep up as she plead her case. “But Lois is insufferable, and the Daily Planet has beaten the Tribune in the Charity Invitational every year that we’ve entered. Now that I have something _remarkable_ in my back pocket,” Cat paused, turning to her, “I think it’s time we up the stakes.”

Cat was pacing the floor like a caged animal, her heels tapping out a rhythm on the expensive carpet. Kara was sitting on the couch, turning her head from left to right watching her move back and forth. She let out a little snort when it occurred to her that it felt like she was watching Cat play a tennis match right here in this office.

Cat stopped at the interruption. “Is this funny?” She frowned and gripped the back of the couch with her perfectly manicured nails. Kara stared at those slim fingers as they sunk further into the cushion.

Kara glanced up and willed her expression back to a more serious look. “Um, no Miss Grant, sorry. I don’t mind trying. But I won’t use my powers to cheat, even if it _is_ for charity.”

“Kara, darling, I’m not asking you to cheat in the actual match,” Cat said in a slow, calculated voice. Kara tangled her fingers together in her lap and wrung them around each other, fidgeting.

“I’m just not sure I’m going to be any good at tennis,” Kara said with a shrug.

“I would be surprised if there was any physical skill on the _planet_ that you couldn’t master, given the right motivation.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled her I’ve-got-you-now smile.

Kara didn’t intend to warm so drastically or become so pliant under Cat’s praise, but that smile worked on her every damn time.

“Well, um, okay then Miss Grant, let’s do this,” Kara said, and she couldn’t help but match Cat’s grin. “Let’s beat Lois Lane.”


	2. Getting It (Mostly) Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tennis/country club Supercat AU that no one asked for. Cat realizes that (as usual) Kara doesn't have the right clothes for the occasion. Kara tries her hand at both tennis and flirting with Cat.
> 
> Competitive Cat. Eager-to-please Kara Danvers. Pre-relationship Supercat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will still help if you listen to “Work This Body” by Walk the Moon while reading this fic. And Supertrashco: my squad, my trash bin, my loves - fuck you guys. <3

Despite the numerous physical gifts bestowed upon her by Earth’s foreign sun, Kara had never really tried any sports. It was a cruel twist of fate (one of many in her life, she noted) that her unique talents made her _so_ special that she couldn’t do anything requiring speed or agility or strength because the risk of outing herself was too great.

When they were younger Alex stole the show in track, field hockey, and volleyball while Kara cheered from the sidelines, resigned to choir and art. And she loved painting; she wouldn’t trade her contemplative time spent alone with brushes and pigments for anything. But ever since she took up flying around saving the city as her side gig, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to stretch her legs running in lazy circles around Alex’s high school track team.

Maybe the thought was occurring to her now because she was seriously considering bolting away from this situation as fast as she could. Kara was currently pondering her missed high school athletic opportunities while standing in the middle of the Laguna Gloria club shop dressing room.

Both Cat and the sales clerk, Amanda, were staring at her from a few feet away, their discerning eyes raking over her. Cat’s head was cocked to one side, her chin in hand in a thoughtful posture. Amanda looked slightly more pleased with Kara’s appearance—she could tell Amanda thought they’d finally found something court-appropriate.

 _Court-appropriate_. Kara rolled the words over in her mind again. If someone had said that phrase to her before today, she would have assumed they were talking about a smart business suit you’d wear to testify in front of a judge.

Now as she stood awkwardly in front of three mirrors and her two tormentors, she knew court-appropriate meant something tight, white, and expensive. Country clubs, Kara was learning, were _really_ particular about their dress codes.

When Kara had bounded down her apartment steps and slid into the car this morning, Cat had tilted her sunglasses down her nose to take in Kara’s sloppy appearance: a beat-up pair of black Nike running shorts, a baggy National City Comets t-shirt, and her favorite pair of neon running shoes.

“No. Absolutely not,” Cat had declared as she put her sunglasses back on. Kara glanced down.

“No?” she asked. “I wasn’t sure what to wear, I mean I’ve never been to one of these places. It’s not like my family was really the country club type—”

“No.”

And now here they were, trying on clothes instead of playing tennis. Kara stood front and center in a short white Lacoste tennis dress, and Cat looked as close as she ever got to satisfied.

“This is fine Amanda. Wrap up the rest of this pile as well,” she said as she gestured to a mountain of tried-on tennis attire in a chair by the door. “Kara, give her your shorts and your t-shirt. Obviously you’ll be wearing the dress out today,” she commanded.

Kara looked a little ashamed as she handed over the crumpled mess of her gym clothes to Amanda to be packed away with the rest of the crisp new outfits.

“Charge these to my account and have them put in the trunk of my town car, please,” Cat said. And with that, Kara was following her out the door. They walked briskly along a stone path leading past palm trees, a beautiful pristine swimming pool and the first tee of the most perfectly manicured golf course Kara had ever seen.

“The pro shop should have your racquet strung and ready to go, then we can finally get this production going,” Cat said impatiently. Kara moved quickly to keep up. She felt wonderful getting outside, moving her muscles and breathing in the cool fresh air characteristic of the rich hills and valleys just outside National City. It was hard to believe only 20 minutes ago they’d been whizzing through downtown, locked in a maze of glass and steel.

“This place is gorgeous,” Kara commented, and Cat glanced around as if the idea hadn’t occurred to her.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” she said as she met Kara’s eyes briefly, her mouth quirked into a reluctant smile.

* * *

One $600 racquet and a short walk later, Kara was armed for battle and standing at the baseline of Court 5, trying her damndest to focus on everything Cat was telling her. She kept getting distracted by seagulls soaring overhead and the way the breeze brushed Cat’s tennis skirt against her thighs.

“Kara, focus,” Cat reprimanded.

“Sorry coach,” Kara laughed. “I’m listening.” She spun the racquet in her hands with a natural ease, tossing it from one hand to the other lightly.

“Forehand,” Cat said. “Your most basic weapon. Watch me.”

Cat took a ball from their large wire basket of ammunition and bounced it once, then swung and made instant contact. Her form was perfect; the shot connected well and sailed just over the top of the net into the waiting green rectangle on the other side.

“Yes?” she asked.

Kara nodded. “Yup, got it.”

“Okay then, now you try.”

Kara stepped up to the baseline and picked up a tennis ball. She dribbled it a few times against the ground with her racquet, testing its buoyancy. She bounced the ball once with her left hand, took a huge swing, and missed it entirely.

She swung with such force that she spun a little and nearly knocked into Cat. Kara reached an arm out to stop herself and her grip landed firmly on Cat’s waist. The shock of the contact and the hilarity of Kara being so terrible at this drew a rare laugh out of Cat’s mouth. Kara pouted.

“If I’d known you were gonna make fun of me…” Kara said.

Cat pulled herself together and stepped away from Kara’s half embrace. “No no, I’m not making fun of you. You clearly have the power,” Cat said, her eyes drifting to Kara’s muscular arms, “...now you just need to control how you use it.”

Kara let the comment hang in the air for a moment, looking at Cat from beneath long lashes. “Well, come show me, then,” she said softly. She held out her hand, racquet still gripped tightly in her palm.

Cat hesitated, and Kara wondered if maybe she’d been too forward.

Her mind raced with the implications of her own flirtation. Kara didn’t act like this normally; she wasn’t reckless with other people's hearts, nor did she find sport in eliciting reactions from those who might be interested in her. But somewhere along the way, during her constant education in Cat’s casual cruelty, she’d learned that a little awkward flirting was her only true defense.

She wasn’t even sure it worked, at least not in the normal way that it would on a man. She didn’t think Cat was undressing her with her eyes or trying to sleep with her—not exactly. What she did know was that a well-placed word or the tiniest illusion of submission could stop Cat cold in the middle of a rant, or spur her into an action she didn’t otherwise want to take.

Most of the time, Kara tried not to think too closely about what that meant. She also tried not to abuse the privilege, lest it lose its effectiveness and eventually fail her when she really needed it. But out here in Cat’s exclusive sanctuary, nestled in the hills that seemed so far from the CatCo offices where this skill first became known to her, Kara let herself play the part a bit more than she might have otherwise.

Cat finally stepped toward Kara and gripped the head of her racquet with her left hand, pulling her closer. Cat reached out and laid her right hand over Kara’s, encouraging her to loosen her grip on the handle. “Stop strangling it,” Cat said. She rotated the position of the racquet in Kara’s hand so that her grip was a bit more angled, the face turned more toward the warm concrete of the court.

“There,” Cat said. “Now you’ll be able to get more spin. This time, keep your eyes on the ball and continue to follow through with the swing after you make contact.”

Cat released the racquet and Kara’s hand and moved back. She tossed her another ball.

“Again,” Cat demanded, and Kara obeyed. She dropped another ball, took her swing, and for the first time in her life she felt the satisfying thrill of contact as she smacked the ball and sent it sailing over the net. She turned to Cat with a huge grin.

“Perfect,” Cat praised her. She actually looked impressed for a second before she reigned it in. “Now you just need to do that 300 times a day, 5 days a week until it’s perfect every single time.”

Kara squinted into the sun, shielding her eyes as she looked at her boss’s face. She hadn’t seen her this happy since the last time she saw her with Carter. Kara was suddenly very glad that Cat wanted to take advantage of her skills.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re terrible at pep talks, coach?” Kara smiled.

“No one who lived to tell about it,” Cat said. “Now… again.”


	3. Suspicions Confirmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tennis/country club Supercat AU that no one asked for. Cat teaches Kara how to serve (on the court). 
> 
> Competitive Cat. Eager-to-please Kara Danvers. Pre-relationship Supercat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend listening to "Hands to Myself" by Selena Gomez for this chapter. God knows I did. 
> 
> And Supertrashco: my squad, my trash bin, my loves - fuck you guys. <3

Having her suspicions confirmed was one of Cat’s favorite things. She often told herself that the reason she was so —  _ fond _ was the wrong word, but her mind refused to offer a substitute — of Kara was that Kara confirmed her suspicions early and often.

She’d suspected Kara would be an excellent assistant. She remembered interviewing her early that fateful morning at CatCo; the girl was dressed in unforgettably horrible pastels that blended seamlessly into her office wall color. Though a thousand other candidates had already passed her desk, Kara had  _ something _ . She possessed a type of attention that was a little too focused, her eyes constantly searching Cat’s face for an answer to a question she hadn’t been asked yet. She looked at Cat like she was already anticipating her. And the first time Kara rescheduled her entire day around Carter’s parent-teacher conference without even asking, Cat knew she’d chosen correctly.

Then there was the matter of suspecting Kara was Supergirl. The moment she’d confronted Kara was one of the most exciting moments in her journalistic career — she laid out her evidence, and Kara stumbled. The girl offered the weakest resistance Cat had seen since she seduced her closeted-bisexual college roommate just to see if she could. 

Not that the comparison was helpful in this situation. But in either case, suspicions confirmed.

Today, she was picking up Kara for their third Saturday morning practice; their work week now blended into Saturday hitting sessions with surprising ease. She watched the girl hop down the steps of her apartment building and felt that familiar fondness swell within her. Cat had the freedom to observe her openly from behind the dark tinted glass of the town car as Kara waited to cross the street. 

Kara was dressed perfectly. Her blond hair was pulled back into a bouncy ponytail and held back with a simple black hair tie. A white visor shaded her eyes as she looked left down the street, watching the traffic. She was clad in one of the many short, form-fitting tennis skirts Cat had purchased for her; today’s choice was white with a faint line of blue stretching from the hem up across the hip in a feminine curve.  Her upper half was tucked snugly into a Nike warmup jacket, and she had her large racquet bag slung over her shoulder. 

She looked like she’d played tennis her whole life, but that didn’t count for much — with Cat’s money it was easy to dress Kara for any part. After just a few sessions at the club, however, Kara proved she didn’t  _ just _ have the look. She played like she’d been practicing for years, too.

In this strange detour they’d embarked on together, Kara had confirmed her suspicions yet again. The girl was a natural athlete.

The traffic eased and Kara jogged across two lanes, tossing her bag into the trunk and sliding in next to her. She crossed her legs toward Cat with a grin and reached over to give her knee a friendly poke with one finger. Cat raised her eyebrows so dramatically that she could feel her sunglasses slip. Their little trips to the club were breeding a delicious familiarity between the two of them, something Cat had worked hard to avoid with any of her employees thus far. 

“You’re in a good mood this morning,” Cat said dryly. 

Lately it felt so vital that she not let any of her pesky fondness for Kara ever see the light of day. No, those feelings were for contemplating alone in a hot post-practice shower with a glass of scotch; the more time she spent with Kara, the more Cat had taken to using her soap dish as a coaster. She adjusted her sunglasses lightly.

“It’s serve day! Finally! I’m so excited,” Kara said. “I feel like this is when I’ll really start getting the hang of it.” Kara was bouncing one leg, her energy filling up the car as they eased away from the curb and into traffic.

Cat considered the idea of Kara slamming serves from the baseline and smiled toward the window. She had her suspicions that Kara might excel at this, as well.

* * *

Kara was bouncing the strings of her racquet repeatedly against her shoe in frustration. Cat’s distracted thoughts were bouncing against the sides of her skull, making her feel jittery.

“I’m just not getting it!” Kara was saying. 

The day was breezier than normal, which wasn’t helping matters. Kara had been practicing serves for the past hour, tossing the ball up into the air and launching herself at it like an attack. 

“You’re distracted by your own strength,” Cat told her, the implication clear. “Don’t focus so much on holding back. There’s no one around. I actually had the courts cleared for this today.”

“I thought it seemed empty out here,” Kara said, but then realization passed over her face. She looked slightly taken aback and a warm smile graced her features. “You did that for me?”

Cat rolled her eyes and huffed a little in an attempt at deflection. “I did it for  _ me _ ,” Cat lied. “I don’t need all the lawsuits that are sure to follow when you break someone’s face with a serve while you’re still learning.”

Kara was still grinning at her with an idiotic smile that told Cat her excuses were completely transparent, even if she wasn’t using her x-ray vision this morning. Kara picked up another ball and tried again. She bounced it once, twice.

Cat watched as Kara executed her serve. She bent at the knees, almost curling into her body, then leapt up from the baseline just as the ball reached the zenith of her toss. Kara extended her arm at the perfect height. The stretch of her lithe body tugged her tank out of the waistband of her skirt, exposing a swath of tanned stomach. As she made contact with the ball, Cat could tell she let go of her control and Kara hit it perfectly as hard as she could.

The next sound Cat heard was a group of surprised masculine shouts from Hole 4 of the Laguna Gloria golf course, which Cat estimated to be about half a mile away. She burst out laughing before Kara even hit the ground.

When Kara’s feet made solid contact with the court as she finished the serve, she landed so hard that she crouched a little at first, then straightened, almost as if she’d just finished flying. When she saw the tickled look on Cat’s face, her laughter still bubbling over, Kara looked a little guilty. She put on her best “oops” face and turned toward the distant male voices, her alien hearing picking up traces of their conversation.

_ “How the hell did a tennis ball even get out here?” _

_ “Did it come through the trees? Did someone throw it?” _

_ “I think someone is messing with one of the ball machines. I’m going to have a talk with the staff about this.” _

Kara looked vaguely chastised and gritted her teeth together in a nervous smile. “Fore?” she said, and shrugged. 

Cat laughed again. “That was better,” she said. “Your form is perfect.”

Kara’s face changed then, her grin fading into a smaller smile. Cat continued a little too quickly.

“But obviously you’re going to have to reign in that super strength, if you’re still insisting on this ‘not cheating’ plan you seem so adamant about,” she said with a sigh. “Plus your grip is still wrong.”

Cat took off her jacket in the warming morning sun and dropped it to the ground at her feet. She set her own racquet down on top of it and walked over to Kara with purpose, which seemed to sober her a bit.

“Face the other direction like you’re going to serve,” Cat said. Kara held her eyes for a second, but then turned her back to Cat, her racquet still in a death-grip in her right hand. Cat sidled up behind her and put her hands on Kara’s hips.

This was the exact moment at which Cat began to reconsider her decision not to hire a professional coach for Kara. Obviously she could afford it; she could have an internationally ranked player flown in from Spain and standing on this court in less than 24 hours. She had certainly thought about it — there were no lengths she wouldn’t go to in order to beat Lois Lane, once she’d decided that was her mission. Kara could have learned from the best in the world.

But as always, Kara’s whole hero situation was hovering at the edge of her mind. At the start of this, they’d talked about what it would feel like for Kara to try using her body in a way that was strong without being, well,  _ super _ . She’d listened to Kara’s fears about control with uncharacteristic empathy; she had wanted Kara to agree to this, and thus had offered a sympathetic ear and undivided attention as a bargaining chip for the girl’s compliance. The ploy was as successful as ever, but it had an unexpected side effect. 

Once Kara had confessed her worries to Cat, it made her  _ protective _ of Kara. 

Protective was not something she did well, except when it came to Carter. But here she was, protecting Kara’s secret with cleared tennis courts (that hadn’t been cheap), coaching the girl herself. She was breaking about 58 of her own personal rules today on this sunny tennis court, her hands on her assistant’s body and her mind clanging with warning bells. Cat took the racquet out of Kara’s hand, dropped it to the ground, and put her hands back on her hips.

When she touched Kara again, the girl glanced back over her shoulder, flipping her ponytail and giving Cat a little smile. Those warning bells got dramatically louder. For once and without reason, Cat mentally pulled the plug on the entire system and everything inside her went silent. She tugged Kara’s hips backward a little, her thumbs barely brushing the waistband of the skirt. 

“Eyes on the ball, Kara,” she said firmly. Kara turned away from her again and bounced the ball in front of her. “Go through the serving motion again, without the racquet, and slowly please.”

Kara did as Cat asked. She tossed the ball in the air, raised her right arm and swung, but didn’t leap high enough to pull herself out of Cat’s hands.

“Hips before hands,” Cat said. “You need to turn your hips before you make contact.” Cat pushed her hips forward a bit and they swiveled slightly. “Hips, then hands.”

Kara bounced the ball and tried the motion again, but Cat’s eyes were dragged away by the telltale funeral march ringtone signaling a shit-text from Lois Lane. She strode over to the court bench and retrieved her phone.

_ Bitchmonster: Adi’s lookin good, don’t you think, Cat? _

As usual, Lois had attached an unsolicited picture of her current whereabouts — Adrienne was standing at the net practicing volleys. Cat rolled her eyes. So typical.

_ Cat: Does Clark even know you used to fuck her? Christ, Lane _

Lois’s response was almost immediate.

_ Bitchmonster: Don’t be jealous kitty. It’s been a long time since college ;) _

Cat was thrown at the baseless flirtation from her ex-roommate, but only momentarily. She walked over to Kara.

“Kara, darling, do me a favor,” she began.

“— another one? Becoming an overnight tennis phenom isn’t enough?” Kara teased.

Cat pursed her lips. “I think the gentlemen at the 4th tee might disagree with the ‘phenom’ moniker. Take off that visor, let down your hair and smile.”

Cat held up her phone expectantly. Kara gave her a funny look, but she pulled out her ponytail and shook it out, then grinned for Cat to snap a picture.

“Is that one for your personal collection, or…?” Kara said, still smiling. Her eyes were twinkling with a mischievous look.

Cat glared. The girl was feeling a little  _ too _ bold today. “No, that one’s for Lois,” Cat said, and she offered no further explanation. She turned back to her phone and sent the picture to Lane.

_ Cat: Why would I be jealous when I have this? _

 


	4. Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating change. Kara accidentally sees a text from Lois that she wasn't supposed to, and in the delightful fallout, Cat realizes Kara has other things to offer besides a wicked forehand.
> 
> Competitive Cat. Eager-to-please Kara Danvers. Pre-relationship Supercat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beloved betas are still everything. damelola, sexghosts, rtarara, reginalovesemma, lishesque, bridgetteirish and xxtorchxx <3

Kara and Cat were so focused on their mission that they barely noticed when a gorgeous National City sunset gave way to darkness and the court lights hummed on. 

As Cat stood at the baseline gamely preparing for one of Kara’s near-unreturnable serves, she realized she had to give credit where it was due; when Kara committed to something, she committed 100%. Of course Supergirl’s duties drew Kara away from the court as needed, but Cat was allowing her a lot of leeway in their day-to-day work. She didn’t send Kara out of the office on errands quite so often and she didn’t keep her as late as usual. She still wanted Kara to have time with her sister and her friends, and for that to balance out with all their tennis practices, something had to give.

Of course, Cat communicated none of this caring intent verbally. She simply ignored Kara and got her own lunch, or told Kara to leave at five so Cat could think without being distracted by her shuffling papers out there in the bullpen.  _ No use in making her feel too special _ , Cat thought.

But Kara  _ was _ special. Cat watched as she went into her serve and unleashed that gorgeous power she’d so quickly reigned in and harnessed. She barely had time to react. Her late swing missed entirely as the serve just touched the corner of the service box then slammed into the fence behind her.

“Was it in?” Kara called from the other side of the net.

“It was in,” Cat confirmed. “Ace.”

Once Kara had gotten the basics and could replicate all the shots with relative consistency, she’d stopped praising the girl for every little thing. But Cat did call out aces when she landed them, and Kara stood up a little straighter and grinned. She looked tired, though, as she moved to the other side of the court to serve the next point.

Cat saw the fatigue in her posture and was already on her way to the net. “No, that’s it for tonight,” Cat said. 

Kara bounced the ball she was holding. She looked at Cat’s face, checking her resolve. Cat tapped her racquet against the net, summoning Kara to the middle of the court. With that, Kara felt certain Cat really did want to be finished with practice for the day, so she popped the extra ball back toward the fence and jogged to meet Cat at the net.

Kara’s feet ached and her muscles felt a vague strain. That was obviously unusual for her, but the combination of constant practice interspersed with Supergirling was an unusual drain on her energy, if not physically then certainly emotionally. 

“So, there’s other good stuff at this place, right?” Kara asked. She fidgeted with her racquet, her nervousness disarming and obvious.

Cat quirked her head to the side. “That depends on what you mean by ‘good stuff,’ I suppose,” Cat said. “There’s decent wine and average food,” she said. Cat turned and started walking toward the benches, expecting that Kara would follow.

Kara smiled as she trailed along behind Cat. “I  _ am _ starving. I’d like to get something to eat, if you want? But I was thinking more like maybe a sauna, or a hot tub, or something that will make me feel less beaten to hell after spending the day chasing down your backhand,” she said.

This gave Cat pause. Besides the first day of shopping at the club store and the pro shop, they’d never really done anything else at the club. When their practices were over, Cat was careful not to take up more of Kara’s time. She already felt somewhat guilty over using Kara like this, though she would never admit it. Lois certainly knew how to bring out the worst in her. But if Kara wanted to see what else the club had to offer, she certainly wasn’t going to deny her.

Cat pulled out her phone and held up one finger to pause Kara as she dialed the concierge. “Wilton, yes, hello, Cat Grant. Please reserve a table for two at the Overlook for 8pm. Perfect. Thank you.” 

She turned back to Kara. “Plenty of time to shower, hit the spa, and then get you an expensive pile of chicken fingers or whatever you usually eat,” Cat said.

“Um, excuse me,” Kara said in a mock-insulted tone as she slung both of their bags over her shoulders. “They’re called chicken  _ tenders _ and they’re delicious and full of protein.” She was clearly feeling playful now that they were done for the day, and she was walking backwards now, waiting for Cat to catch up. 

Cat nodded toward the bags. “You’re not a pack animal, Kara, and you’re not my servant. Not out here, anyway. I can carry my own things,” she said.

Kara just grinned at her. “I like doing things for you, Cat.” Her smile faltered a bit as she seemed to realize she’d called Cat by her first name, but she gave a little shrug and continued. “Besides, super strength, remember?”

As they walked off the court together, Cat couldn’t help but glance over at her and grin.

* * *

 

Kara was rambling happily, still carrying both of their bags as they made the short walk to the club’s locker rooms. Cat found it oddly relaxing to listen to her talk at the end of their practices. Just at the point when she would normally “shh” anyone else, she found herself still wanting to hear what Kara had to say.

“I was watching some clips online of Petkovic and Kerber, and their speed is unbelievable,” she was saying. “I wonder how long they’ve been playing together. I mean clearly they’re no Venus and Serena, but Venus and Serena are  _ sisters _ , I mean you can’t replicate growing up together and playing together every day practically since you were born...”

It truly was a joy to watch someone with Kara’s energy and enthusiasm become so rapidly interested in something Cat had enjoyed nearly her entire life. As they entered the main Laguna Gloria building and rounded the corner through doors of the changing area, Kara was still going on about famous doubles matches of the past. Cat smiled to herself at the memory of Kara seeing the inside of the space for the first time — “This locker room is classier than my bank’s lobby!”

She heard her phone play its telltale funeral march indicating a text from Lois. But, without skipping a beat in her monologue, Kara had dropped their bags and was starting to undress for the showers. Responding to Lois instantly seemed like the absolute last thing she cared to do.

Cat molded her face into a carefully practiced expression that said “I’m not looking, but I’m not NOT looking, either.” She slid out of her own skirt and slim collared shirt, grabbed her robe from her locker, and walked past Kara toward the showers before she could be tempted into dragging her eyes over Kara’s body.

Cat learned early on in this endeavor that Kara was pleasantly unselfconscious about her naked form. She wondered if it was due to different Kryptonian customs around nudity — maybe they didn’t suffer from the same burden of shame and anxiety around their bodies the way Earth’s inhabitants did. That, or Kara was simply so well-muscled, tanned and gorgeous by Earth’s standards that it didn’t occur to her to care who saw her.

Either way, after every practice Cat was faced with the same dilemma — to look or not to look. Just like every other time, Cat did her best not to stare. Something about seeing Kara like this felt invasive, mostly because Kara didn’t know Cat was attracted to women at all, much less that Cat was attracted to  _ her _ . If Cat had been more forthright about her interest, maybe a glance at the readily offered view of the soft, toned skin of Kara’s naked back wouldn’t have been out of the question. As things currently stood, Cat paid for her secrecy with a silent vow of respectful distance.

Cat began to lather shampoo into her hair and heard her phone ding again, this time with Carter’s custom text tone.

“Kara, are you still changing? If you haven’t gotten into the shower yet, will you see what Carter wants?” she called from her stall. Cat massaged her scalp under the hot spray, the water relaxing her aching muscles. 

“Sure, no problem,” Kara responded.

The second Kara finished her response, two things happened inside Cat in perfect unison. One, her heart rate skyrocketed while her heart itself fell into the pit of her stomach. Two, she realized that right under the text from Carter, her phone also contained an unread text from Lois Lane — it was a message in response to her taunting picture of Kara, and there was no telling what it might say.

It was too late now, of course. Kara had the passwords to all of Cat’s devices (she’d set them up, in fact) and she knew Kara would see the text from Lois. It could be as innocuous as “whatever, Kitty” or it could be as disastrous as “Wow, fucking your assistant? Cliche.” Cat’s mind raced with the possibilities and the shower stall suddenly felt like it was closing in on her; she was suffocating in the steam.  _ Get a grip, Cat _ , she thought to herself.  _ You can play this off just like anything else. _

She listened intently as she rinsed her hair, desperate to see the text as soon as Kara got into the shower. She felt wrecked. Why was she even texting Lois about Kara anyway? This could throw an awkward wrench into all the planning and hard work and intimacy they’d gained.  _ Intimacy? _ she thought.  _ Since when did she care about protecting her closeness with her assistant? _ She tried hard to convince herself that she only cared about the outcome of the Charity Invitational as she waited behind the curtain for Kara’s voice.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when instead of calling to her from the locker room, Kara pulled back the shower curtain in Cat’s stall just a bit and peeked inside. She was clad only in a towel and her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun.

In her shock, Cat dropped the conditioner bottle she was holding and scrambled to pick it up before she realized she was bending over naked in front of Kara. She straightened up, the bottle abandoned on the floor, and attempted to look dignified while standing naked in a beautifully tiled prison of embarrassment.

“Jesus, Kara!” she exclaimed. Kara completely ignored her outburst. In fact, she was  _ grinning _ .

“Hey, so Carter was just letting you know he’d be late tomorrow morning because his dad is taking him to an all-you-can-eat pancake brunch. He seems pretty excited about it,” Kara said casually as if they were having this conversation in the middle of her office at CatCo.

Cat crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to seem uncomfortable with any part of this ridiculous situation. She knew she was failing miserably.

“Is that all?” Cat snapped impatiently. “I was in the middle of showering.” She jerked her head back toward the water as if she needed to remind Kara exactly what she was doing in there. Her hair was sticking to the side of her face uncomfortably, but she didn’t dare move her hands to fix it.

Kara clenched her fingers over and over around the shower curtain where she gripped it, the luxe fabric crinkling into a hundred little wrinkles under her hand. Cat could not stop staring at her hands.

“No, actually that’s not all,” Kara said. Her voice had dropped into a dangerously low register and Cat hugged her arms tighter around herself. Kara’s eyes absolutely sparkled with some dangerous fire burning inside her. “Lois responded to your picture,” Kara said. 

She had kept her eyes locked with Cat’s until now, but when she said Lois’s name, Kara’s eyes dropped to Cat’s mouth, then down to her chest where she barely covered her breasts with her arms. Kara’s gaze traveled further over her hips, but then she faltered and blinked rapidly a few times as she dragged her eyes back up to Cat’s face. 

“She wanted you to know that she agrees I’m ‘insanely hot’,” Kara finished. 

Cat’s mouth dropped open to offer some sort of explanation, but Kara’s grin stopped her. Her face was absolutely lit up with glee at Cat’s discomfort, her gorgeous eyes creased with the strength of her smile.

“I took the liberty of texting her back for you,” Kara said, and then with a wink and a flick of her wrist to close the curtain, she was gone. As Cat caught her breath, she could hear Kara humming happily to herself from a few stalls away, the notes of something pop and upbeat floating through the humid air.

* * *

 

Cat used her own version of superspeed to rinse the conditioner from her hair and bolt out of the shower at what felt like Mach 3. In reality she was walking at a reasonable pace because Cat Grant didn’t do external panic. But inside, her stomach was rioting.

She snatched up the phone out of her bag and pulled up the text thread.

_ Bitchmonster: Oh I get it Kitty, I agree she’s insanely hot. What are you paying her to be your arm candy? _

_ Cat: I don’t need to pay her to be my arm candy, Lane. She’s happy to do that just for the pleasure of my company. _

Cat stared hard at the response Kara had sent on her behalf. She read it several times just for good measure. She was concentrating on it so hard, in fact, that she didn’t hear Kara shut off her shower and come padding over to where she was standing. Kara was mercifully wrapped in her robe and briskly drying her mess of blond hair with a towel. Cat looked up and saw Kara watching her, and she felt compelled to speak.

“I’m… I’m sorry about this,” she said gesturing with the phone, and the apology felt strange and foreign coming out of her mouth. “It was disrespectful.”

Kara quirked the side of her mouth in a little smile, turned to face her locker, and dropped her robe to the bench behind her with complete nonchalance. 

“I appreciate that,” Kara said over her shoulder, sliding a pair of bikini bottoms over her hips and then deftly shrugging on the swimsuit top and clasping it in one fluid motion. “But you don’t need to be sorry.”

She paused, turning to face her in nothing but her swimsuit now. “Besides, you can make it up to me in the hot tub,” Kara said with a grin. “My shoulders are killing me.”

“Are you even capable of getting sore muscles?” Cat asked with narrowed eyes, her tone skeptical as she quickly put on her own practical swimmer’s one piece and collected her towel. 

“Does it matter?” Kara said with a little laugh. She turned to walk out of the room, and Cat had no choice but to follow.

* * *

Cat descended the stairs first, sinking into the bubbling, steaming water of the hot tub and exhaled deeply as she felt her muscles relax. She leaned back against the jets and let her head rest against the tiled edge. The pounding of the water was soothing and strong.

Kara slipped over the side and dunked herself before floating over to sit closer to Cat than was necessary. The room containing the hot tub was empty at this later hour, and Cat opened her eyes to watch Kara relax against the jets.

“Ready for that backrub now?” Cat asked, desperate to regain some control of this situation but incapable of moving in any direction other than straight toward Kara’s gravitational pull.

“Mmm, yes, please,” Kara said. She floated away from the side and over Cat’s lap, nearly weightless in the rolling water. Cat spread her knees and reached out to grasp Kara’s shoulders, pulling her through the water until she was resting between her legs. 

“Is this okay?” Cat asked, willing her hands not to move lower until she had an answer.

The line had already been crossed, but Cat was nothing if not thorough. She hadn’t forgotten that she’d basically blackmailed Kara into being her doubles partner, and she wouldn’t stand for anything less than perfect clarity about Kara’s wants in this new facet of their relationship.

Kara hummed from somewhere low in her chest and rested her forearms on Cat’s bare thighs underneath the surface of the water. “Is what okay?” Kara asked cheekily. “You haven’t done anything yet.”

Cat gave her shoulders a little pinch. “Kara, I’m serious. Look at me.”

Though Cat’s command was backed by the best of intentions, it immediately backfired as Kara flipped around in the water, bringing them face to face while still resting dangerously close between her legs. She reached out and braced her hands on the tile on either side of Cat’s head to keep herself from floating away. Cat could no longer tell if her lungs were heavy from the burning steam or from the heat of being so close. Kara looked at her expectantly.

“I know I didn’t give you much choice as to whether or not you could say yes to this. To playing tennis with me, I mean,” Cat began, her eyes betraying her as they lingered on Kara’s pink mouth.

“Mmhmm,” Kara encouraged, waiting for her to come to the point. Cat knew she saw where her stare was focused, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Kara’s lips.

“I don’t want you to think that you  _ have _ to do… anything else,” Cat continued. “That’s not what—”

Cat’s reassurance was cut off as Kara floated forward the last few inches between them and pressed her warm, wet lips against Cat’s mouth. Cat was shocked but only momentarily; she was quickly spurred into action by the kiss. She reached out under the water to hook her hands beneath Kara’s thighs and lifted her to straddle her lap. Kara adjusted deliciously close, spreading her knees further apart on the underwater bench so that she sunk down as far onto Cat as possible. Cat grasped tightly at the bikini strings at Kara’s hips, feeling reckless at being just two loose bows away from a half-naked Kara Danvers. 

Kara deepened the kiss in a slow, steady rhythm, unhurried and meticulous in her exploration. When their tongues slid against each other, Kara’s hips rocked forward in an unmistakable grind and Cat thought she might pass out from the sensation of Kara’s need. 

Whether because of the water or the steam or the inhuman self-control of the girl in her lap, everything about the situation seemed to move in slow motion. Kara wrapped her arms around Cat’s shoulders and continued rocking her hips at a devastatingly slow pace as she tugged down the straps of Cat’s one piece. She trailed hot, heavy kisses down the column of Cat’s neck, paying special attention to a near-invisible cluster of freckles around Cat’s jaw line, then bending lower to kiss the skin of her shoulder where the strap once fell. When Kara found a spot on her collarbone that drove her particularly insane, Cat lost control of her hands. With a dual pull to the strings, the bottom of Kara’s bikini went slack and drifted away from her body, leaving Kara’s bottom half completely bare under the water and pressed tightly against Cat’s lap.

“You feel so good,” Kara whispered against the shell of her ear, then flicked out the tip of her tongue to lick her earlobe gently.

The touch of Kara’s hot mouth to her ear was the last straw for Cat, and as Kara sucked eagerly, Cat cupped Kara’s sex and slid her middle finger deep inside her.

Kara still had her arms around Cat’s neck, but at the sensation of being filled she leaned back, her mouth slightly open in a silent plea. Her eyes were closed tight and she let her head drop back in pleasure, her long hair just barely floating on the surface of the water. Her new position exposed her neck to Cat’s eager mouth.

As much as Cat wanted to remove her bikini top and put her mouth on those firm breasts, some part of her was still vaguely aware they were having sex in a public place. Someone could walk in at any moment, and despite Kara’s lack of inhibitions, Cat didn’t want to get kicked out of Laguna Gloria under scandalous circumstances. She tore her attention away from the tops of Kara’s breasts and focused instead on watching Kara’s face as she pumped her fingers in and out beneath the water.

Kara was completely silent, eyes still shut and her breathing labored and quick. Kara braced one hand on the side of the hot tub again, then reached the other beneath the water to touch Cat over the thin lycra of her suit. It was too tight to move out of the way, but Cat knew she was so turned on that it wouldn’t matter. Kara’s fingers were strong and sure against her body, and as Kara started to tremble and stiffen with the onslaught of her orgasm, she expertly pressed Cat’s swollen clit in firm and even strokes until Cat tipped over the edge mere seconds after Kara. They both came in relative quiet, perfectly in sync in their desire not to draw unwanted attention. Cat let out a shuddering sigh as she rode out Kara’s easing touch.

Kara still rocked her hips against Cat’s hand and even in her aftershocks, her body gripped Cat’s fingers with overwhelming force. As Cat tried to recover her senses, she wondered how much Kara was having to control her strength right now. She vowed she wanted to know more next time, if she was blessed with a next time, about how Kara experienced every single touch.

“That was…” Kara said, but she trailed off as Cat slowly slipped her fingers out of her body.

“Hot,” Cat said with a smirk. 

“Mmm, yes. Hot,” Kara agreed. She was sinking back down into the bubbling water, her expression pure bliss. “One might even call it  _ insanely hot _ ,” Kara teased, reminding Cat of a terrible reality—she now owed Lois Lane a thank you. Completely unearned, but owed none the less.


	5. Succeeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Cat board the CatCo private jet and head to New York for the Charity Invitational. The trip brings a shared hotel room, a championship, and a cocky Kara Danvers.
> 
> Competitive Cat. Eager-to-please Kara Danvers. In-a-relationship Supercat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the Supercat tennis AU no one asked for. It's been a very fun ride - thanks for coming along. :)

The rippling fumes of jet fuel created a hypnotic shimmering effect along the ground as Kara and Cat stepped out of their town car onto the tarmac of National City’s private airport. Cat blinked rapidly behind her massive sunglasses, irritated her personal shopper hadn’t been able to come up with a darker pair. She snapped her fingers at the waiting attendants and with a polite “Miss Grant,” they immediately started moving luggage from the car into the belly of the jet.

“Not the racquet bags!” Cat snapped. “Those need to be temperature-controlled or the strings will weaken. Those go in the cabin with us,” she said.

While Cat was barking orders, Kara stepped out of the other side of the car and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand, looking upward at the huge jet and then around at the flurry of people prepping for their flight. She met Cat’s eyes and smiled across the top of the car. Cat fought a smile, but lost. She really needed to keep herself in check; none of her employees would respect a boss who was constantly mooning over someone right in front of them, not to mention they were about to share this flight with a dozen other CatCo executives who were attending the charity event. Before she could delve too far into that train of thought, one of the valets caught her attention again.

“No, I said IN THE CABIN! Alberto, if I have to say it again, I swear to God…”

Kara just grinned wider and collected her purse and duffle from the backseat. She came around the car and took Cat’s bag for her as well, then drifted a subtle touch across her forearm.

“Cat, come on, let them do their job. Show me the jet,” she said with a quiet, amused smile.

“You’ve seen an airplane before, Kara,” Cat said with a huff, but she linked her arm through Kara’s and led her toward the passenger stairs to board the plane.

* * *

Cat sat flipping through a magazine in the window seat as Kara carefully arranged their things in the overhead bins. Rowdy VPs and other department heads were filing through the doorway now, and the plane’s staff rushed around trying to keep up with their calls for drinks.

Kara could see Cat flipping through the pages a little too quickly to actually be reading them. She knew Cat wasn’t thrilled about sharing this trip with anyone besides the two of them; the jet was her space, a private sanctuary, something she considered hers. It was good business, though, and that trumped everything else; taking her executives on a lavish trip once a year kept them feeling important and made their experience feel exclusive.

Kara went about easing Cat’s anxiety the best way she knew how — by taking care of her. She brought down a cashmere throw and a silk eye mask from Cat’s bag and set it on the table in front of their seats. She gathered up a handful of chargers for Cat’s devices and dumped them into the seat, then continued rummaging in the overhead bins. She pulled out her laptop and placed it on the table as well.

“I’ll be right back,” Kara said and left their row.

After a short moment of charming the head flight attendant, Kara returned with a searing hot latte in a warmed, delicate bone china cup. She set it down carefully next to Cat and started plugging in the chargers for their electronics. Cat absolutely hated to be without a full battery on a flight.

As Kara messed with the cords, Cat eyed her over the top of her unread magazine. Kara plugged in the last charger with a satisfied “there we go!” and sunk down into her seat next to Cat. She finally noticed Cat was watching her intently.

“What?” Kara said in a moment of endearing self-consciousness. She exhaled upward, blowing her hair out of her face and smiling shyly as she started untangling her headphones.

Cat said nothing, but she turned in her seat so she was kneeling. She reached over Kara to close the curtain that separated their area from the main part of the cabin. As she slid back down into her seat, she reached out and held Kara’s chin softly. With a glance over the back of their seats to make sure no one was watching, she stole a slow kiss, Kara’s skin unbelievably soft under her hand. She pressed her palm fully against Kara’s cheek and she forced herself to break the kiss before it got out of control. Though she left her lips, she couldn’t help but continue to stroke Kara’s face softly with her thumb for a moment.

“What was that for?” Kara asked, the amusement lightening her voice so it sounded almost like laughter.

“For being excellent at your job,” Cat said, and she meant it.

* * *

New York City was one of Cat’s favorite places on earth, and she had always been grateful it was the home of the Charity Invitational. But as much as she enjoyed the trip every year, she knew by now that CatCo still required her attention even during events like these; to keep up, Cat was awake and answering emails at sunrise.

She sat propped against the pillows of the massive king size bed in her hotel room, her laptop open and an exhausted Kara asleep next to her in a mess of blond hair and white sheets. Kara’s things were strewn around in her adjoining suite for the sake of appearances, but Cat glanced over at the open door to the other room and felt a little thrill of pleasure at seeing Kara’s bed still perfectly made.

She peered over the edge of her glasses at her screen as she deleted the final item from her inbox and glanced over to observe the girl sleeping next to her. She’d seen nothing of New York during this trip, but she didn’t regret the choice. A hotel room alone with Kara was the only thing she wanted right now, the only thing she _needed_. They’d practiced hard on the court the day before, but the minute they crossed the threshold into this room they became something else entirely. They were deep in the midst of learning what it meant to be together in every sense of the word.

Somehow, without Cat realizing it, they’d already built the structure of this relationship.

She was ashamed to admit it, but most of the work still required to perfect their dynamic on the court was on Cat’s part. Kara was already accustomed to reading and interpreting her every need, and that translated seamlessly into their doubles play. Cat saw now that she had been lax in that department, but she was learning.

Now that Kara was _hers_ , she was consumed by the monumental need to catch up in that regard, both on and off the court. Her competitive streak spurred her on. She was learning to anticipate how Kara anticipated her, and it was so _very_ rewarding.

It was rewarding last night when she felt Kara absolutely shattering above her mouth, her cries desperate and uninhibited. She hoped it would also be rewarding enough to land them a trophy today.

With the benefit of hindsight, it seemed like a glaring red flag that her relationship with Kara didn’t actually change _that_ much after they added (frequent, mind-blowing) orgasms to the mix. In the ensuing days between their unexpected encounter in the hot tub and the Charity Invitational, Kara had continued to be the perfect assistant, but she’d seamlessly added perfect girlfriend to her daily repertoire. _Oh god_ , Cat thought. _Did I just call her my girlfriend?_ She removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose warily.

As if on cue, Kara stirred and stretched. Cat put her glasses back on just in time to see the sheets shift as Kara rolled over, which offered her a generous view of a toned stomach and perfect breasts. She blinked open sleepy eyes and didn’t seem the least bit perturbed to find Cat’s gaze roaming possessively over her half-naked body.

“Morning,” Kara said with a smile. She reached out her hand, silently asking for Cat to come closer.

Cat didn’t hesitate for a second before closing the laptop and setting it on the bedside table. She sunk back into the sheets with a naked Kara Danvers and decided that she really, _really_ loved tennis.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to sink behind the stands at the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center as Cat and Kara walked out under the blindingly bright lights of Center Court. There were several high-profile celebrity matches slated for later that evening, and the crowd was vibrating with excitement waiting to see Nadal and Federer battle it out for their favorite charities.

Kara dropped their bags unceremoniously near their designated benches, but it wasn’t until she turned to really have a look around at the setting that she was overwhelmed at the feeling of being in the spotlight. Cat paid no mind to the lights or the simmering crowd. She kept her eyes on Lois and Adrienne, who had just entered the court from the other side. Once they’d taken their place at the benches, she glanced at Kara, then adjusted the grip tape on her racquet.

“Focus on me, Kara,” she said quietly.

Kara turned her attention to Cat without question. “I always do,” she said with a smile, and any nerves she may have felt vanished into the warm summer air.

By the time they won the first set, Cat and Kara had hit their stride. They were both moving with lightning speed across the court, communicating silently with practiced ease. Even when they dropped a point, they quickly touched racquets between every serve. Cat was slamming volleys at the net like she owned the place, and judging by the reaction of the crowd, she did.

They fought hard to a 5-4 lead in the second set, and Cat could see in the clench of Lois’s jaw that she was determined. Before the next point she held a heated exchange with Adrienne at the baseline while the other woman stood quietly, absorbing her words. Adrienne nodded dismissively and jogged back to the net. It was time for Kara to serve for the match.

“Energy up, up, up! Here we go, Cat,” Kara called the encouragement to her partner from the baseline. Cat crouched low; she heard Kara bounce the ball once, twice, and then there was a thundering pop as Kara launched her deadly serve across the court.

Cat watched the moment in an odd sense of slowed time. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the crowd erupt in wild shouts and applause as Kara’s serve painted the far outer corner of the service box. She took in the surprised and horrified look on Lois’s face as she swung and missed Kara’s serve entirely.

Lois slammed her racquet to the ground in a fit of anger and Adrienne just sighed heavily at the net. With that final ace, the Charity Invitational was theirs. In the Catco box, her VPs raucously chanted “CAT! CAT! CAT!”

Cat heard happy shrieking rapidly approaching from behind her as Kara ran up and embraced her, picking her up from the ground and spinning her in a victorious circle. Kara’s hair and Cat’s skirt both flung out behind them as they moved together, and she could see the flashes as photographers captured the celebratory moment.

“CAT! We did it! We did it!” Kara exclaimed. Cat laughed despite herself as she smacked Kara lightly on the shoulders.

“Congratulations, now put me _down_ for God’s sake,” she said through her grin. Kara set her on the ground and looked over at their opponents. Lois was already packing up her things. She and Cat walked up to the net and each shook Adrienne’s hand.

“Adrienne, nice match. At least get her over here for the photo op, will you?”

Poor Adrienne glanced over at the benches. “Lois, come on, photo time.”

Lois scowled but knew she couldn’t refuse, especially since the sales of this issue of the paper would contribute to their chosen charities as well. She stalked over to the net where the other three women stood. Even with laser vision, Kara was a little afraid of her. She glanced at Cat who was grinning like she just ate the proverbial canary; it was obvious Cat did not share her trepidation.

“Lois, darling, excellent match. I’m sure you’ll do better next year. I hope you won’t worry this means you’ve peaked. Physically.” Cat maneuvered around to stand in front of Kara, as Lois positioned herself in front of Adrienne. One of the officials handed Cat a huge sterling silver trophy which she hoisted proudly. The photographers were assembling in a group in front of them.

“At least I don’t look old and desperate trying to fuck someone half my age, Cat,” Lois said quietly, their barbs hidden in undertones now as the videographers and journalists set up microphones for the post-match interviews. All four continued to smile gamely for the cameras, and Adrienne seemed blissfully tuned out.

“Not trying,” Kara said through gritted teeth as she continued to grin for the now-dozens of photographers. She slung one arm loosely around Cat’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, what was that blondie?” Lois murmured.

“Not _trying_ to fuck someone half her age, Lois. Succeeding.” Lois’s mouth dropped open in shock at the comment just as Kara turned and blew a kiss to her and Adrienne. Kara then spun on her heels and wrapped her arms around Cat’s shoulders as she pressed a huge kiss to her cheek. Cat laughed in shock and hugged the trophy to her chest as Kara held the kiss for the cameras.

The flashes popped like fireworks and the crowd went wild again.

* * *

In their hotel room the next morning Kara woke up to the gentle thud of a newspaper landing on her chest.

“Mmmmfph,” Kara moaned crankily. “Why.”

“I hope you’re pleased with yourself,” Cat said as she stirred sugar into her room service latte. Her tone wasn’t as harsh as the words it carried.

Kara sat up in bed — naked, again — a sight Cat was quickly getting used to. She rubbed her eyes then lifted up the paper to look.

_TO THE VICTOR GO THE SPOILS  
_ _CatCo CEO Cat Grant Wins Annual Charity Invitational, Gets Kiss From Her Doubles Partner_

“Oh my _God_ ,” Kara laughed. She glanced up at Cat to see if she was really upset. She could easily tell from the quirk of her mouth that she was absolutely loving it. Kara looked down at the paper again and unfolded the front page.

They had cropped Lois and Adrienne out of the photo entirely.

Cat’s phone startled them out of their amusement with its ominous funeral march. She reluctantly dragged her eyes away from Kara, picture-perfect in the morning sunlight, and checked her texts.

_Bitchmonster: You’re unbelievable, Cat, I can’t believe you’re actually fucking your assistant  
_ _Bitchmonster: You used to care about not being a cliche_

Cat looked up at Kara for a moment. She was still sitting in bed, accompanied now by a room service tray. She was stuffing her gorgeous face full of blueberry muffins, downing coffee, and lazily doing the crossword puzzle. She still hadn’t bothered to put on any clothes. Cat looked back to her phone and wrote her reply.

_Cat: There’s something to be said for cliche, Lois. Speaking of that, I owe you a thank you. Drinks, tonight, Vivaldi’s. Bring Adrienne._ _  
_ _Bitchmonster: I hate you. We’ll be there._


End file.
